


Silence Like a Scream

by AsexualMagneto



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Breathplay, Choking, Gags, Light Bondage, Other, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-22
Updated: 2014-11-22
Packaged: 2018-02-26 13:31:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2653781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsexualMagneto/pseuds/AsexualMagneto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas/you breathplay fic inspired by 9.18.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silence Like a Scream

**Author's Note:**

> "Cas looks so lovely with a gag, though. I love him so much. I wanna press kisses all over his face and choke him til he begs for mercy."
> 
> I am Trash.
> 
> Gifs by anangelandademoninthebackseat.tumblr.com

Cas is already tied up and gagged when you enter the room. He’s sitting back against the chair, relaxed, breathing steadily through his nose, lips stretched beautifully around the cloth in his mouth. He inhales sharply and sits upright when he sees you.

"Shhhh," you coo, sliding into his lap, knees on either side of his hips. "You’ve been so good for me, Cas." You slip the gag out of his mouth and his lips fall open in a ragged breath, jaw shifting to work the kinks out from being restrained so long.

"Can you do one more thing for me, baby?" you ask softly, hands stroking through his hair and down his cheeks. He’s quietly pleased with the praise, leaning into the caresses. He looks straight at you and nods, and you smile widely, placing a gentle kiss on his lips.

Your left hand slides up to rest gently over his nose and mouth. “Hold your breath, babe, as long as you can,” you whisper, and you wait for him to close his eyes, suck in a breath, and nod a tiny bit before pressing down and cutting off his air.

For a few moments he’s sitting back in the chair, eyes closed, entire body lax beneath you. Your other hand cards through his hair, coming down to rest on his throat.

His self-imposed relaxation lasts an impressively long time before the first signs of struggle become clear in the furrowing of his brow and the jolting of his stomach muscles. Still, he holds his breath - you feel no struggle for air beneath your fingers. It’s another few moments before you feel his self-control begin to slip, and his windpipe struggles around air that isn’t going anywhere.

"Look at me," you murmur, and his eyes fly open to meet yours. They’re wide, blue, and starting to fill with tears as his body continues to struggle for air

You smile, because Cas is trying so hard, fighting to control the force of his lungs, and you slip your hand from his throat down his chest as you feel the muscles twitch and tremble. These sensations are clearly ones he’s not too familiar with - perhaps he underestimated how quickly it would begin to burn through him and make him desperate for relief. He’s begun to make choked-off whimpering noises in the back of his throat, his hips lifting from the chair of their own volition.

He’s trying so hard, but the sounds filling the room are growing more urgent, tears slipping down the sides of his reddening face as his body bucks against yours. You can feel how hard he is as your hips press together, and you moan, moving closer and murmuring praise.

The noises he’s making have turned frantic, his face a dark red, when you lean in and say in a firm voice, “I’m going to count down from ten and then let go, okay?” and you can feel him try to reign himself in, but his body is too far gone into oxygen-panic mode to relax now.

"Ten…" Castiel thrashes against you.

"Nine…" A series of high, choking whimpers.

"Eight…" Eyes squeezed shut and head thrown back.

"Seven…" His chest trembling in waves beneath your hand.

"Six…" Tightening your legs around his hips so he doesn’t throw you off his lap entirely.

"Five…" His noises have turned to frantic pleading sounds.

"Four…" It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.

"Three…" Every strong muscle in his body contracting at random, entirely out of his control, eyes scrunched as tightly closed as they’ll go.

"Two…" He could’ve broken off your hold long ago, but he hasn’t - he’s held his head more or less still the entire time - so good for you, so good.

"One…" Silence that sounds like a scream.

You let him go, and he gasps in ragged breath after ragged breath, coughing and wheezing and slumping back in the chair. His neck is a beautiful long line of fluttering muscles, stretching from his head thrown over the seat down the stretch of unbuttoned shirt buttons. You lean down to press kisses along his exposed skin as your fingers work to open his pants and belt.

His labored breathing turns into low moans as you skirt your fingers along his length. You smile against the crook of his neck.

"You’ve been so good for me, baby," you press a kiss to his skin, "you’ve worked so hard. It’s time to get your reward."


End file.
